


mother and son

by sapphickagero



Category: Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: Canon Compliant, Deeprealms, Ficlet, Relationship Study, Revelation, Ryoma's not a good... dad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-24
Updated: 2020-09-24
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:00:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26623294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sapphickagero/pseuds/sapphickagero
Summary: Camilla visits Shiro in his Deeprealm and resolves to end their separation.
Relationships: Camilla/Ryoma (Fire Emblem)
Kudos: 23





	mother and son

It is a flash of obsidian that dances about the sky and Shiro is just able to make out the furious beating of wings all onyx in their coloring and streaked with the tinges of the darkest violet. Curiosity weighs heavily upon the youthful boy’s brow, his gaze narrowing with intensity in his observation of the shadow that looms before him. A lone figure sits atop of the wings (or so this is what he is able to comprehend), curls of lavender rippling about as the wind catches their hair. Shiro couldn’t take his eyes off of the sight, immediately feeling a connection to the figure ever so familiar in his memories; the person calling for him and him alone even if not a word passes through the lips of the figure. It is as if he has been entranced into a dream so sweet.

“Mama!” Little fingers that still are plump with the youthfulness of childhood are reaching into the air near immediately, beckoning for the mother that had been so long gone to come to him. 

A shiver inadvertently crawls down his back when the flash of obsidian descends from its reign in the sky — now fully revealed to be the mount that he’s briefly recalled his mother speaking of upon one of her previous visits. He’s unsure of what it is called, he’s forgotten that particular detail, and yet he remains impressed as it lands upon the earth ever so graciously, the beating of the wings flaming to a standstill. And for the briefest of moments does he find himself peering into sharp eyes that have been colored the deepest red of rubies, laced with a glow nearly mystical in nature. 

The baring of its gleaming teeth that bear the appearance of blades sharpened to their highest potential little dissuades him from his curiosity, a breath of amazement only parting his lips.

His mother had never come to him upon her mount before and certainly it is a sight of a wondrous terror for any that have not encountered the beast known as a wyvern. And for another brief moment is his gaze occupied with the beast of large proportions, as dark as the night in its scales and streaked with tinges of violet, certainly an amazement to behold. It is a far cry from the wooden carved wyverns that he used to occupy himself as he played — his mother had brought them as gifts , he had recalled his first memories of her.

“Hello, my precious little Shiro-bun!” The sweetness of his mother’s voice untangles him from the vision of curiosity about the creature , shifting his head in a movement so rapid that he nearly knocks himself off his feet. A smile ever so gentle, so warm, and so familiar to him has painted itself upon her lips and Shirt cannot help but throw himself into her arms, a yelp of happiness about his own lips. Camilla dons not the armor built of obsidian and touched with pallid gold, but she has dressed plainly in a dark gown, lined with fur, an indication of the wintry environment of her home. Nonetheless does she don hardy boots meant for riding, sewn with only the roughest of materials and tipped with the metal to match her armor so that her feet may be protected. 

“Mama!” It is nearly a screech as he practically shakes with all of the happiness in the world as his mother’s fingers card through his own locks of lavender — an inheritance that she has given him. “You came to visit me again! You even brought your wyvern with you!”

“Leonida did well to help bring your mama here.” Camilla murmurs into his hair, fingers still remaining interlaced with the fine tresses as his tiny body is held against her own. With each passing visit did Shiro come to crave the affection of his mother and so with each hug that is gifted upon him does he savor each and every touch. “Now I can spend all of my time with my precious Shiro.”

“Do you really mean that, Mama?” He is quick to question her, an assurance that his mother would stay at his side and would fulfill her promise to him. Subconsciously does he know that she would not dare to break a promise so precious to him, though his own father did not fill that own role. Shiro had come to figure that he was a secondary priority in the life of his father. He had not seen the great, towering man in over a year.

“Of course I mean that, Shiro.” Once more does she decorate him in her kisses, the assurance strong upon her lips. “I would be such a bad mama if I broke a promise to my sweetest child.”

“You’re the best, Mama! You couldn’t do anything wrong!” He laughed, gifting his mother the widest smile he had not shown to anyone in ages. Certainly his caretakers, ever still and formal in both their bearings and their attitude towards him, have never earned such a smile. 

Camilla returns the smile that Shiro so loves and holds dearly in his heart, he’s always though her most beautiful when she is smiling.

“Oh, I do not believe that I deserve such high praise. But if it is from you, I certainly will accept the compliment.” Camilla laughs softly, a shining glint of amusement in her gaze as she brushes a finger across his head, tossing pallid locks out of the way.

“You’ll always be my favorite!” Shiro is practically yelling into the ear of his mother, though she appears not to mind the excitement of the youthful child. It is his turn to press a kiss upon her forehead, his fingers entwining with pale locks of her hair — a distant reminder of the tiny infant he used to be.

Camilla would have spent more time with her beloved son as an infant however… Well, his father had always insisted that it was safest for little Shiro to be away from his parents, both of whom were of royal bloodlines, his father in particular being the heir to a vast kingdom.

Though Shiro would not know of the truth of his heritage if the wishes of his father were to be followed.

Any thought of his father dissipates into the emergence of laughter upon his lips, it is the laughter of a child without a care in the world as Camilla draws him into her arms into the air. He is about at her waist now, though Camilla take each and every opportunity to draw him into arms and carry him — she’s given up so much to be with him already. For Shiro, he feels as if he soars about the clouds in the arms of his mother, though he’s well aware not to fail about while in his arms no matter the excitement that pushes him to kick his feet and wave his arms.

“Why don’t we have something to eat? Mama’s hungry and I’m sure you wouldn’t mind a meal yourself.” Camilla draws the idea from origins of the sound that is a gentle resemblance to thunder and found within a place much closer — the little stomach belonging to Shiro. “You need food to grow strong, darling.”

The little boy peers down at his stomach, cheeks immediately taking upon the complexion of a cardinal as embarrassment blossoms within him because of his neglect of his breakfast that morning. Shiro had rather made the decision to his in the pond with his hands, with the belief that he could pull any fish from the water with all possession of his strength. 

He had to be capable of such strength if he wished to be the great man that his father was said to be by his caretakers. 

“O-okay, Mama!” The two words descend into a stumble of motions, a burial of his face into the chest of Camilla so that he may attempt to disguise his shame. Camilla knows not what sudden bout of bashfulness has grasped her son but is chuckling nevertheless, only glad to have him in her arms. 

She thinks a mother and child should never long be parted from one another. And Shiro was but a boy of five years, so it isn’t like Camilla is a needlessly doting mother hen. The boy has passed all but five summers and left to his own devices in the seclusion of the Deeprealms in the name of safety. Without the nurturing love of his parents. The fact only made Camilla resent the decisions made so carelessly by Ryoma even more.

Shiro is clinging to his mother’s chest even as they make their entrance into the main hall of Shiro’s residence, no expense spared in its immaculate construction — apparently it meant to resemble Castle Shirasagi or so that is what Ryoma had told her. Nevertheless can Camilla not help the frown tugging upon her lips even as she admires the finely cut marble Hoshidan decor that bathes the residence in elegance. In actuality does Camilla find it to be resembling her own childhood home by way of its inner nature. Not a hint of love to be laced through its depths.

Camilla recalls all too well of what a home without love affects a child and she had sworn not to allow any remaining sibling to be entrenched within those dark depths. Certainly she’ll never allow her beloved Shiro to know even a moment’s lack of love.

Camilla shouldn’t have been so naive to believe Ryoma would have assured that their son received more than merely the barest minimum of care, that Shir would be raised with the love she had never known and be allowed to develop healthy emotions. She knew that Shiro has been receiving the utmost education and upbringing from the provided caretakers, but it certainly was not enough. Not when he clings to her, an ever silent plea within his shining magenta eyes to allow herself to stay here and be with her son. To give him the adoration and the love that she had been so long neglected of — the love upon which all children thrive.

Though Camilla herself was not within innocent boundaries either, as she had allowed Ryoma to convince her that this — all of this Deeprealm business was meant to ensure the protection of their children. And Camilla could not be pushed beyond blame herself — not when she had clung to Ryoma’s words as the truth when she had feared for Shiro’s life.

But now is she here to remedy the mistake that never had should been made.

“Mama…” Shiro’s voice is of an uncharacteristic timidity and concern seizes her heart as she quickly glances over the boy’s body, althoug he’s merely tucked his head upon the his mother’s chest, nearly curling into her as if he’s an infant once more. 

“Are you going to stay with me…?” Shiro sounds as if he did not wish to pose the question and it strained Camilla’s heart with pain of the thought of her child suffering. The thought of her child believing that she would never return for him.

And she had helped contribute to it no matter how indirectly.

“Of course, darling.” She brushes her lips across tresses that seem so familiar to her own, even if they are spiky in their nature rather than rich waves. “Mama won’t leave you. Not again.”

“You’re the best, Mama!” Once more does Shiro reiterate, briefly raising his head so that he may gift Camilla with another kiss and tickle upon her chin. Though as soon as he is completed is he tucking himself into the comfort that is the space between her neck and her shoulder.

With the warmth of her child in her arms and her resolve never to leave Shiro again does Camilla find some semblance of peace. The peace of a mother with her child, forever at his side so that she may protect him and lavish him in the love that she had never received.

A promise she’ll die before she sees it broken.


End file.
